


Trust

by quinngrey



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 14:09:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13882506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinngrey/pseuds/quinngrey
Summary: In which Annatar feels he is losing his grip on Tyelpë and decides to let the other fuck him as a sign of his love.





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> We all know that Annatar is an emotionally manipulative bitch. You already know there are gonna be some mind games. The Melkor and Mairon stuff is implied heavily but Melkor is not actually in this piece at all. 
> 
> From a request for this pairing. I was given creative liberty to do whatever I wanted as long as it was them, sooooo.

It had been an immensely tense month between them. Well, between not just them, but also many of the Noldor in Eregion and Annatar. Though he had delivered them much skill and had voiced his instruction and praise freely in days past, but he could sense when something was amiss. Tyelpë was beginning to withdraw from him, working late into the night more often than not. It irked at him, and though he delved into the elf’s mind in search of something that would explain the odd behaviour, nothing came with ease. There were gaps where there should not be, missing events that it was clear the other was trying to conceal. Try as he might to keep his patience, Annatar was quickly losing the peaceful facade.

Celebrimbor’s rooms were quiet as the evening fell. With little fanfare Annatar had slipped inside and began to prepare the hearth, the dried timber catching his flame in an instant. As the Maia rose once more to his feet, he ambled toward the adjoining room that held the bath, his steps each defined with a twinkling sound from the various jewels and bells of his intricate robe. It was this evening that he would lure the elf back to him, he had decided, in that he once more seduced his way into Tyelpë’s bed and heart. All too trusting was the young Noldo, despite all that he had been through in his life. His desire to be loved and accepted overcame his fear of deception. 

As the bath ran, he ran his fingers over various vials of scent and oil, choosing a lavender for trust and spilling a few drops into the water. In the private space he also lifted the ornate robes he wore and made quick work of oiled fingers to prepare himself should their activities go as he had planned. There was no joy in it, no pleasure, only scientific and methodological movements to make this body pliant as it needed to be. 

The door to the main room had opened, a sound so quiet he had barely even heard it. Smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, he rearranged the layers of fabric and made his way out to greet the other. At the sight of Tyelpë he was donning his most convincing smile, so gentle and genuine he may have even fooled himself. Arms outstretched in greeting, he bowed his head in acknowledgement. 

“Tyelpë,” he inhaled, golden gaze meeting the other’s, his brow creased slightly as the other regarded him longer than expected. 

“I was not expecting you…”

“I am aware, but I come not officially but as a friend. These days have felt distant, as though you have been avoiding me,” Annatar explained, straightening himself once more and bringing his hands to clasp over his heart. “I… have missed your companionship.”

Watching as the other crossed the space, removing his boots and cloak, Annatar waited for a response. When it didn’t come as quickly as he had hoped his teeth grit and jaw tensed in irritation. Yet as soon as it occurred his face relaxed once more and he closed the distance between them. 

“What is it that plagues your mind, dear one?” 

His voice was like molten gold, full and rich, and with each word it soothed at the edges of celebrimbor’s mind. Wariness and mistrust fading from the forefront until they settled deep in the recesses of his thoughts to be dealt with later. The elf let Annatar take his hands between his own, warm and comforting, giving himself over to the one who had done him no ill. Suspicions he had were unfounded, weren’t they? Truly his Maia has never done him any wrongdoing. How could he?

The Lord of Gifts brought the other’s hands up and pressed soft kisses to the knuckles, giving each inch of skin his attention. Each callous, every split of dryness, received a teasing yet soothing dart of tongue until Celebrimbor was his once again. 

“There are whispers, you know… Some believe you to be a great deceiver,” the young Noldo finally gave in, airing his concerns aloud for the first time. Once said, however, those fears felt completely unfounded, childish even, and he looked sheepish as his eyes fell to the empty space between them. 

It was no surprise that some had become to suspect him of ill intent, but he had hoped he had wound his dear Tyelpë tighter than that. To know such things had caught on and pulled them apart, even in the smallest way, would truly not do. Instead, he began to lead the elf toward the bath chamber, walking backward so as not to expose any weakness in his plan. “Jealous words, lover, for I do not lavish anyone but you in such praise. I do not exalt any other the way I have exalted you for you are greatness beyond compare… You have won me in ways others cannot.”

Hearing those words seemed to put Celebrimbor at ease, tension visibly lifting from his shoulders. To be able to push the accusations off on trivial feelings of jealousy instead of being concerned that Annatar was playing him for a fool helped. He nodded, lifting his gaze to meet the beautiful golden eyes he had grown to adore, offering a weak smile as if it would be a suitable apology. “You are right… I am sorry to have doubted you.”

“Shh, it is neither here nor there now, Tyelpë. I have run a bath and would give myself to you, if you will have me,” Annatar offered, leaning in tentatively to brush his lips against the other’s. “I am yours, and would never mislead or betray you as others have tried to convince you.”

The words spoken against his lips were an assurance, a promise, and by the earth and the sea, Celebrimbor wanted desperately to believe them. He leaned against the Maia and accepted kiss after kiss, their mouths languid and loving against one another. He didn’t even protest when deft hands began to undress him. Inhaling as those lithe fingers pulled his unlaced breeches from his hips, they at last broke the kiss. Annatar appraised him, pulling the tunic over the elf’s head, until Celebrimbor was nude before him. Uttered praise of his beauty made him flush, the blush darkening his cheeks up to the tip of his ears. 

He looked to the Maia and hesitated, but in a moment Annatar lifted Tyelpë’s hands to his robes and nodded his consent. The process was slow and careful, each ornate garment unfastened, pieces slowly falling to gather on the floor until the Maia was fully undressed before him. His skin seemed to glow, naked as he was save the jewelry that adorned his ears and the gold hoops through his nipples. Although it wasn’t the first time they had been intimate, this time was neither hurried or fueled purely by lust. Every touch and caress was evenly paced, the minutes spanning what felt like ages. 

When at last Tyelpë seemed to remember that he was not alone, despite touching the other, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. Annatar brushed his fingers along the elf’s cheek, giving him a reassuring smile before aiding him into the warm water. Slipping between Tyelpë’s legs, he brought his lips to the throat before him and sucked soft marks into the tender flesh there. His hands explored the toned chest, teasing at the tender nubs there as he felt and heard Tyelpë moan beneath him. Instead of picturing the elf beneath him, his thoughts were on another, dark hair and powerful hands. He could do this, could give himself to this undeserving Noldo, if it meant being closer to his long gone Master’s will. 

Wrapping his fingers around Tyelpë’s cock, his teeth tugged carefully at the lobe of the elf’s ear for a reaction. The gasp and groan was telling enough, and he hummed in delight. At least he would get some sort of enjoyment in this endeavor. Annatar sucked at the lobe a moment before pulling it again between sharp teeth, his hand stroking the other to hardness. 

“Anna-ahh-“ Celebrimbor moaned softly, his hips canting upward as if seeking the touch. His arms wrapped around the Maia’s thin frame, desiring the feel of skin against skin, his hands trailing along his sides. 

“I want you to have me, Tyelpë, to make me yours,” he breathed into his ear, licking his tongue along the curve up to the point. “Will you take me, my love?”

In times before it had been Celebrimbor who had spread his thighs and allowed Annatar inside, submitting to the Maia and his burning touch. The realization of what was being asked of him now dawned and he broke away enough to level Annatar with a steady gaze. His breath was coming quicker now from the hand that worked his arousal, but he stilled the movement with his own hand. “You are sure this is what you want?”

Annatar’s eyes seemed to flicker, like a flame dances in the wind, at the question. Instead of answering, he pulled himself up to straddle the Noldo’s lap, his long hair falling forward until the ends brushed Tyelpë’s clavicle above the water. With a hand he steadied the hard length and slowly he lowered himself down upon it. 

Hissing out a long breath, Tyelpë’s eyes rolled back and closed, head falling against the rim of the tub until Annatar was fully seated on his length. Pink tongue darting across his lips, he waited for the other to adjust, though he wasn’t sure how long such a thing might take. When at last he opened his eyes, the Lord of Gifts was watching him carefully, an amused smile playing on his beautiful mouth. Enveloped in that tight heat, Tyelpë was amazed as Annatar drew his hips up before taking the plunge back down. The slow roll of his hips, the soft sounds of the water splashing against the lip of the tub in the movement, and the quiet gasps from the Maia were all so overwhelming. 

As Annatar took Tyelpë’s cock, rising and falling with tantalizingly slow drags of his hips, the elf’s hands found those milk white hips and the bones that jutted under the skin. The small nod of his head as permission was all that was needed, and soon Tyelpë was pulling the Maia flush down on his length as his hips thrust upward to meet him. Bodies entwined, he rocked into Annatar slowly at first but then quicker as time went on. Each time he thrust into the yielding flesh, Annatar’s moan resounded in the room, his eyes closed in pleasure. 

Despite it all, the Maia was picturing another instead with darker hair, darker eyes. The touch he craved was more fierce, the sharp nails that would bite into his hips as powerful hands would force him to take the cock inside him until he was raw and begging for his release. But as his eyes parted to look upon his lover, it was not his beloved master, but instead a pathetic replacement. All the same, he endeavored to perform, one of his own hands at his nipple, the other sneaking between his thighs to alleviate the pressure there. 

Seeing Annatar touching himself as he took Tyelpë’s cock was the start of the elf’s undoing. He thrust harder into the Maia, making the other gasp in surprise, and basked in the way that he constricted around him in response. Their bodies collided together, bath water overflowing onto the floor, until Annatar spilled his release. So perfect was the sensation of clenching muscles and so beautiful was the other above him, that Tyelpë lasted just a handful of thrusts more before he followed after in his peak. 

The two stayed still for a moment in the cooling water, heavy breaths shared between them. All too soon, however, the Maia was pulling away too sit on the rim of the tub across from where the elf sat. Evidence of their coupling trickled down from between Annatar’s legs, and Tyelpë couldn’t help but stare, still regaining himself. He looked to where the other sat and gave an almost shy smile, and was thankful when he received a smile in return. 

“I am yours, my love,” Annatar hummed, wringing out his hair. “Do not fret yourself with doubt.” Stepping from the tub now, he walked to brush his fingers through Tyelpë’s damp hair. “When you are finished washing, I will be waiting in your bed… I am sure you are tired now, dear one.” Kissing the Noldo’s forehead, he disappeared from the room without another word.

**Author's Note:**

> I take requests and usually have a pretty quick turn around time.


End file.
